


A Thimbleful of Courage

by qwerty



Series: Thumbelina variations [2]
Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Community: kinkme_merlin, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-21
Updated: 2011-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-14 22:43:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/154267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwerty/pseuds/qwerty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To the astonishment of all, the newborn prince was a tiny creature, no taller than the nail of your little finger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thimbleful of Courage

There was a king, who wanted an heir, and his queen, who wished for a child to love. But seasons passed, then years, and still they had none. So it was they went to a witch and begged her to grant them their hearts' desires.

The witch looked at them coolly, and said, "A life is no simple matter to grant. What can you offer in payment for this boon?"

The king was vexed by the insolent demand, but controlled his temper, and said, "Name your price, and I will consider it."

But then the queen stepped forward, clutching at the witch, and cried, "I would give all that I am to my child."

The witch took her by the hands and said, "It is done."

So it was the queen became with child, and at the hour of his birth, she passed away. To the astonishment of all, the newborn prince was a tiny creature, no taller than the nail of your little finger. Enraged at this seeming trickery, and broken by the loss of his beloved queen, the king issued an edict that sorcery was forbidden in his kingdom, and all wizards and witches should be killed on sight. The witch fled, never to be seen again in the kingdom.

Though there was much in the prince to remind one of the beautiful and kind queen, the king could not bear to look upon his son, and left the raising of his son to his tutors and knights, who between them taught him all that a prince should know, including the art of war, and indeed, he was a clever and able young man who, though no taller than your thumb when he came of age, was more than capable of talking law, philosophy and tactics, and also of taking down a full-grown cat with only his tiny sword of finest steel and its hilt of purest gold studded with gems.

Indeed, for it would be unseemly to provide the little prince with any less than the finest embroidered silken garments, delicate parchment-thin boots, and perfectly proportioned gilt bed and other furnishings, anyone looking into the prince's rooms would be forgiven for thinking that it was themselves who had grown to an unnatural size, whereas the prince himself was entirely perfect in every way.

The fame of this wonderful young prince spread far and wide, and came a day when the king of the neighbouring land, beguiled by the wiles of an evil witch, decided it would be a fine thing to steal the prince away to show off as a prize in his own court, and he sent a cunning and obsequious man, who flattered his way into the inexperienced prince's trust.

That very same night, this devious servant threw the prince and all his tiny golden possessions into a sack together and made away with him under the cover of darkness.

Thus rudely awakened, the prince was at first much alarmed and dismayed to find himself being tossed about a sack as Cedric fled into the woods, but he would not be long disheartened, and taking his little sword, which Cedric had assumed to be for show, hacked an opening in the sack and tumbled out into the darkness, unseen.

He made a fortunate landing on soft moss, and immediately ducked into the shelter of a bush lest Cedric notice his reduced burden and came back for him. There he paused to gather his bearings and consider what he would do.

The cold and deep dark surrounding him, and the dinning noises of the forest at night, frightened the prince, but he knew little could be done in a place so strange when he could barely see past his hand, and enfolding himself in a dry, pleasant leaf, he willed himself back to sleep.

In the morning, he looked all about himself, and even climbed to the top of the tallest tree he could find, in the process narrowly escaping the snapping beak of a hungry crow that had taken him for a worm or insect of some sort, but could see nothing that was familiar enough to suggest a way back.

"It is just as well," he said to himself bravely. "For I am tired of leading the life of a prince, and would like to see for myself what the wide world outside the castle is like."

He thought of hunting a mouse for meat first, but realised that even a creature as tiny as a mouse would provide a shameful excess of meat for such a little prince as he was, and gathered instead an acorn and a couple of blueberries as sufficient provision with which to begin his travels, and wrapped them in his little red coat, which he slung over his shoulder that he might keep his sword arm free.

As the prince walked along in the forest, he heard a curious babbling sound, and followed it to find a clear little brook, at which he was much amazed and delighted. He drank and refreshed himself, and thought that he should continue to follow it, for he would have no more need to concern himself with finding water.

But then came strange light hoofbeats, and a lovely unicorn came up and drank from the water beside him, and the prince was much displeased, especially when the magical creature nuzzled him gently. Such an insult could not be borne, surely! The prince was no fair maiden, and moreover he did not care for magical beasts, such as his father had banned and ordered killed wherever they may be found.

He looked over the unicorn, studying the graceful lines of its white body for a weakness by which he could strike it down. Finally, he thought of a strategy, and clambered up the docile beast's leg to its soft-furred shoulder, from which he reached for and seized hold of the long, hanging mane and let go of its side, swinging precariously for several long moments as the unicorn tossed its head in confusion. Finally, the unicorn settled again, and he pulled himself up the mane, handful by handful, and reached the creature's throat at last. He drew his sword, and took aim.

"I shouldn't do that if I were you," said an impertinent voice from above him, and startled, the prince nearly lost his grip and fell.

"Who are you, and how dare you speak to me like this?" the prince demanded, looking around wildly, but he only saw a small falcon perched on a branch above the unicorn. "Magic!" he hissed, outraged. "Do you know who I am?"

"I know who you are," said the falcon disdainfully. "You are a fool who is about to bring down a curse the likes of which even King Uther of Camelot would be wise to fear. It is a terrible thing to murder a unicorn, for they are pretty and harmless creatures that would not hurt a fly. Except when they are murdered by overdressed fools with ridiculously gaudy swords."

"You speak absolute nonsense," said the prince, and stabbed the unicorn. The falcon screamed and flew away.

The nights that followed fell fast and deep, cold almost as winter though it was but the late days of summer. The brook dried up, the berry bushes withered, and the prince had to make do with mealy nuts and too-sweet, half-fermented berries, stumbling to whatever meagre shelter he could find every night while more than a little tipsy.

Somehow he found his way to the end of the woods, dazed and feverish, and found himself kneeling at the edge of a clear lake that had somehow escaped the blight. He splashed his face, trying to clear his head, and drank deeply of its waters. When he raised his head from the lake, he saw that there was a tiny, beautiful woman at his side, no taller than your thumb, watching him.

She smiled softly, and he felt his heart warm, wanting to reach for this being who was small and perfect and so like him, as he had never dared imagine finding in his lifetime. "Welcome, Prince Arthur of Camelot," she said. "The Sidhe have long awaited your coming."

"Who are you?" he breathed, wondering and enthralled.

She reached out a hand to him. "I am Sophia. Come away with me to Avalon, where you truly belong. You were stolen away from us, your people, by selfish magic, all these many years. Come away with me and leave this terrible and barren land behind."

The prince looked at her hand, and across the clear lake at the verdant land beyond, and he was sorely tempted. But he looked back again, and thought of the kingdom to which he was heir.

"Dear Sophia, my mother gave her life for me," said the prince. "That can hardly be selfish. And more, this blight on the land is because of my actions, and I cannot leave without redressing this wrong." He stepped away from the waters of Avalon, regretful.

Anger twisted Sophia's sweet face and made her unlovely. "Ungrateful prince! If you will not come with me willingly," she cried in a ringing voice that echoed through the woods, "then you will come with me a corpse!" When she raised her hand again, she was holding a staff with a glowing jewel on the end, which she levelled at him. Shocked, he drew his sword to defend himself, though he could not think how it would help against the fairy maid's magic.

There was a high, clear call, and the falcon that had called him a fool for trying to kill the unicorn stooped low, claws flashing before Sophia's face. She screamed, falling back to avoid being slashed, but rallied before the falcon could circle back around, and pointed the jewel at the raptor, chanting guttural words that made no sense.

The prince could not let the brave little bird die for him, no matter how insulting it had been. "No!" he shouted, and threw himself between them. There was a blinding light that burned into his corneas, and then all was dark.

When the prince returned to awareness again, everything was strangely hazy, as though he had been deeply asleep and not properly awakened yet. There was an old man in simple homespun robes seated at a distance from where he lay, who was lovingly feeding a unicorn a carrot. "What happened?" he tried to ask, though it came out more of a mumble.

"I am Anhora, Keeper of the Unicorns," the old man declared. "For refusing to abandon the land to blight, and your willingness to sacrifice yourself for the merlin, the unicorn has been restored to life, and with it, the land."

And as he said it, the prince became aware he could hear the soft babble of the brook once more.

"What of the bird?" he asked.

"Unharmed, much as you are," said a voice beside him, and he turned to see a bright-eyed young man there, who looked to be his own size.

"Are you a Sidhe as well?" asked the prince, amazed.

"Nay, I am a warlock," was the easy reply, as if he had no fear of the prince, who had been trained from birth to kill magical creatures. "Do you wish to return to Camelot?" the warlock asked, with a sly sidelong glance.

"Yes," the prince replied immediately. "Do you know the way?"

"I do," said the warlock, and took the prince by the hand, helping him to his feet. "Come with me."

It was then the prince realised the strangeness he felt was because he was no longer as high as a thumb, and indeed stood quite as tall as a proper young prince.

So the prince and the warlock returned to Camelot where, though rejoicing at having his son restored and more, the king continued to abominate magic in all its forms, and the warlock had to hide his powers for a long time yet until the prince came into his inheritance. But that is a story for another time, and we will leave them here.

 **THE END**


End file.
